


When Winter Comes

by Aladayle



Category: DBZ - Fandom, Dragon Ball, DragonBallZ
Genre: Androids, Crapsack Future, F/M, Frieza Being an Asshole (Dragon Ball), Frieza has responsibilities, Frieza is smarter, Honestly I just wanted to play with this idea, It would be easy for him to move in on this, Pure indulgence fic, Self-Indulgent, Some Plot, Uses several of my OCs, but plot holes, i guess, see where it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aladayle/pseuds/Aladayle
Summary: Frieza is revived, but his empire is reduced to little more than ash due to all the rebellions. With a shipful of soldiers and a small fleet stuffed to bursting with evacuees, he has more complicated problems than simply killing those who wronged him.Then he finds Son Goku is dead, his son is mangled, and it is reported that Earth's system is virtually untouched...save for the nasty business they have going on down on the Earth itself.Or, where Frieza sees an opportunity to conquer in a different way.
Relationships: Frieza/OC, Future Son Gohan/Original Character(s)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 14





	1. The Empty Blue Pearl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Once you're in your comfortable bed with the Federation, you won't be able to get out. **We** won't be able to get out._ -Tana Los, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

### The Empty Blue Pearl

"A fine system," Sorbet said, surveying the scans, "If lacking in suitable planets to settle on, save for Earth. However, our scans reveal much in the way of valuable metals in the moons, asteroids, and outer planets." 

He went on, but Frieza felt only a rising annoyance, despite the occasional nod or query to show he was paying attention, in listening to him. He'd forgotten how bare the system was--certainly, they could build bases. The materials for some were readily available and some "pop-up" domes were ready. It was _time_ that was the problem. 

In the beginning, the news had come that the rebels were _aware_ of his revival...and were sabotaging or destroying the planets they'd taken back. Valuable resources, gone. Important centers of commerce, burned in a sea of nuclear fire. They would rather salt, burn, and die than hand over what they had fought for, back to him. Even in battle. 

He killed them. He killed them and killed them and killed them. 

Still more had come to attack and bombard Arcos with their poisonous weapons and warships and soldiers. And as much as he wanted to destroy their ships as well, leave them nothing but deadly dust in the windless vacuum of space--he was the Emperor after all, and the people, his people, looked to him to save them. He _needed_ those ships to help evacuate what was left of them. 

Hundreds of millions dead, and that meant he had to save every last Arcosian possible. He'd made a public announcement on every frequency he possibly could--everyone with a ship was obligated to save as many of his fellow Arcosians and other neighbors as possible or they would suffer the consequences. He noted, also, that the PTO's ships were open to all who would come, soldiers and their families alike. He did not like sounding so compassionate, but he knew they'd thank him later. 

"We are all in this together," he said, "Your fellow man needs you." 

How he hated it--he was not made for this, this was the kind of thing his father was better at. But no, he would not risk it. 

He had access to the Namekian dragon balls--he COULD have revived his father. But he wouldn't; it would be much simpler if he remained dead. Sorbet had seemed to agree as well. 

The first wish had been to revive him, Sorbet said, after they had gotten a basic understanding of the Namekian dialects (though as it turned out, that was unnecessary). The next two--Frieza would allow no one but himself and the dragon to hear. 

The Namekians feared him more than any monster in their myths, and their elder had come to negotiate. If they allowed him access to the dragonballs as he pleased, should he need them, he would let them live. Elder Moori had been frightened, scared stiff, but he would not see his people die en masse as they had the last time Frieza and his soldiers had come. 

And then had come the attack and escape. A group of warrior Namekians had attacked his delegation and only after they were all killed--having achieved their goal of delaying him--did he realize that a shipful had escaped. The last dying warrior had laughed at him, "Did you think we would not prepare for another tyrant who wanted the dragon's power?" 

He'd killed Moori, realizing too late what that meant. But he had what he wanted, had all he needed--for the moment. 

And on they went, until they came here. This system. Backwater, far from anything of importance, far from those blasted rebels that had forced him into a position he hated. 

This planet, home to Son Goku, that infinitely stupid do-gooder. 

"I look forward to killing him," Frieza said, satisfaction deepening at the thought, "Making him choke, making him--" 

"I'm afraid that--that--won't be possible." Sorbet's voice shook, but he stood straight. 

"And why is that? Has he made himself immortal?" 

"The opposite, sir," Sorbet replied, "He--he's died. The information we gathered tells that he died of some disease." 

"Then Vegeta--" 

"Also dead." 

Frieza's fists clenched. How dare they, both of them. How dare they die and leave him with this empty feeling, this feeling of being robbed of that which he deserved. 

"What killed Vegeta?" 

"A pair of androids. They killed most of those which opposed you. Vegeta, the Namekian, most of the capable warriors on the planet. However--however, Son Goku and Vegeta's sons survive, as well as their wives and your...the saiyan you, and her...the point is that they are too weak to defeat these androids." 

"I see."

As he looked at the images Sorbet's drone had collected, as he saw the damage wrought by the androids, the images of Goku's whelp, arm missing, a mangled wretch of a man, training with Vegeta's son, with the other two, of a blue-furred man that looked completely helpless-- 

Vengeance...he wanted vengeance so badly, and yet disease and these androids had taken it from him. And he could easily take care of the rest of them, but somehow...somehow, he knew it wouldn't be enough to satisfy him. 

And then a new thought had occurred to him. 

Another kind of vengeance, a vengeance that would require patience and getting his hands a bit dirty, but one that would be much sweeter than if he were to swoop down and kill them all.

His people would see him as a savior, would practically deify him for saving them from extinction. So much the better if these fools did so as well. He could only grin at the thought of how Vegeta would react to the event. 

"We will leave the rest of the fleet in orbit," he said to Sorbet, "Assure the people of their safety, that I go to negotiate terms with the king of this planet." 

"Will he negotiate?" The timid sound came from Tagoma, who had lived through the last attempt on his life and had quite learned his place. "Surely--your reputation precedes you." 

"I hold in my hand the key to his subjugation," Frieza replied coldly, "The end of those androids."


	2. Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frieza seeks advice from an Arcosian lord and speaks to King Furry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _'Name the terms,' said Gandalf steadily, but those nearby saw the anguish in his face, and now he seemed an old and wizened man, crushed, defeated at last. They did not doubt that he would accept._ \- The Return of the King
> 
> OCs appearing in this chapter:
> 
> Winter - An elderly Arcosian lord  
> Lima - A full-blooded saiyan woman married to Winter

### Diplomacy

It was Frieza's intention to start by speaking to this King Furry that he had been told about, on the advice of Lord Winter. 

He was ancient, a pickled walnut of a man, with a shapely saiyan wife who seemed to be his constant shadow. When Frieza opened the view screen and started the video call, there Winter sat in his chair; his woman in the background. Silent, unmoving, a watchful bit of attractive furniture. The man had lived through two kings and a queen, had seen wars and (as much as he hated to think it) forgotten more about diplomacy than he'd ever know. 

After explaining the nature of Earth's problem and noting that the king was still living, he asked Winter's take on it. If he were alone, with a shipful of soldiers he'd have rolled in and slain the current King, but--he had hundreds of thousands of refugees to think about, and to do that would endanger their lives. He knew he'd have to speak to this King Furry, but thought it best to ask Winter's advice. His father had had nothing but praise for the man and his loyalty (despite his treacherous daughter, who had long since been dealt with). He was wise enough to help and wise enough not to mock his leader for asking for advice. 

"I would speak to him as soon as possible. Put on all the charm and air you can, certainly remember that you are in a position of strength in comparison to him. You can make a base here, and then spread out to the moons and other planets--certainly that would be a good thing for those on the planet below. I made a study of their culture, of what I could access via their own 'internet'--they have gone to the moon, to the next planet out--Mars--sent out drones to look at the outer planets, but they have never made homes outside of their own little planet. Since the androids appeared they haven't been able to do anything further on that head. You would be a great benefit to them. But also remember that this planet has been the best option so far for your people. You should try to keep damage to a minimum." 

Frieza took a deep breath. 

"Thank you for your input," he said. "The first step, regardless, is to kill those androids. As far as I can see, that is the first and best argument I can make in our favor." 

"Correct," Winter replied. "You're quite confident you will be able to defeat them?" 

"Dead certain." His anger rose at being doubted, but he took a deep breath. "I considered dropping the bodies at his feet when I arrive at his little...home." 

There was a chuckle from the screen, though it was not Winter's. It was his wife's. 

"You have some input, Lima?" Winter glanced back. 

"Apologies, dear," she said, "But that is a habit in saiyan culture, when there is an enemy making a special nuisance of himself. I wasn't sure our King would want to mimic that. You must admit that it _is_ a barbaric display." 

"A saiyan habit, is it?" Frieza turned his eyes to her. He knew little enough of her, save that Winter's safety had been her top priority while everything in the PTO went to hell. "True, I do not wish to mimic a monkey. I am a civilized man, after all." 

"Consider the desperation he likely feels," Winter spoke up again, "If you could make contact with him ahead of time, then perhaps he would be less inclined to disgust. But a King who has failed to protect his people may not react as we think--if he is a good king, he has been riddled with guilt over his inability to save his people, and would welcome the sight of those dead androids." 

"Just don't wait too long after killing them to present them," Lima stood behind her aged husband, both hands on his shoulders. "As my lord husband and I have discovered, a head alone is better than a body in pieces, and both are better a day early rather than later." 

"I prefer a body whole and broken, spirit and all," Frieza replied, recalling a moment from years before. Then his good mood soured, when he realized that this would likely be his last chance for a long time to really engage in such torture. These humans were weak, after all; they'd be easy to cow. Especially after what they'd suffered through. 

If only the monkey were still alive, he'd happily take a beating and ask for more. But it wasn't going to happen. 

"Whole and broken works too," Winter gave a strange smile, "How do you think Sorbet and I managed the other lords until you returned?" 

Frieza laughed. "Continue keeping the king's peace in that way, and we will continue to get along well. A man after my own heart." 

And, he thought, casting an eye at Winter's wife, my own habits. 

* * *

Somehow, he was able to make the terribly antique computers of Earth work with his own fleet's advanced ones. Connections of all kinds were tried, until he was able to link himself to this King Furry's own personal line. 

"You--" the blue-furred man said, "Who are you, and what are you doing?" 

"I am your savior," Frieza grinned. 

"There is nothing here to conquer," came the defeated reply, "Nothing but rubble and death and blood. I ask again--who are you?" 

"Frieza of Arcos." There was a pause, and then he added, "And the one with the solution to your problem." 

"Do you know how many people have died after saying those words? I have seen enough on this planet go to their graves after boasting they would save the world, I would rather not see a fate for someone from off-planet. If you seek a place to conquer, you should seek elsewhere. Nothing of value remains, the androids have taken even hope from us." 

"There is a difference between those people and me," Frieza said, "I know I will win. You can doubt all you like, it will not change that I will. The question is my price." 

There was a pause. This King Furry buried his face in his hands and then looked up again. 

Frieza looked behind the man, at the two ragged, exhausted guards. They glanced at each other, but then back up as King Furry met Frieza's gaze again. 

"What is your price?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstories of OCs will be changed in this fic, so you won't need to have read my other fics to know who the heck they are


	3. Treading Water, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan nearly dies, but once again luck is on his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New rule, OCs are added to the "OCs in this chapter list" the chapter AFTER they appear. This is to avoid spoiling anything for those of you who have never read the rest of my fics. (I tend to recycle OCs a lot for different fics)
> 
> Side note: The Kale here is not the one from Super. I created her before that one existed.

### Treading Water, Pt. 1

They had all looked to him. Or at least that was how it felt. 

The son of the great slayer of evil, Son Goku. The son of the first Super Saiyan in years on years. And he couldn't save them. 

_I can't save them_. 

Every day, more people died. His mother tried to keep him from listening to the radio and watching the news, but he would find ways to listen in anyway--and every day, there were more names and neighborhoods, more cities and provinces. Survivors almost always turned up, but never very many. Their stories were all the same, with minor variations on which android had started the carnage and how they'd managed to hide. 

There was death, always, constant death. Whether by the androids, or suicide, or in any number of ways related to the ever-increasing lack of access to food or clean water or doctors. No matter how hard he tried, there was always more death. People killed by the androids, bodies staged in various ways, a grotesque mockery of life staged with corpses. Men and women being left alive after their children were killed, simply because the androids relished in their pain--men and women who went on to end their lives, feeling themselves to be failures for not being able to do the impossible. The lack of readily available food to those in the cities was even grimmer; in the areas hit hardest there were whispers of cannibalism. On and on and on, until the only thing he felt was guilt. 

_Is this how I die?_ , he thought, struggling for breath, _Alone, in some crater? ...Trunks...is Trunks here? Is she?_

There was a tumbling sound, rocks shifting, maybe being kicked. He froze, trying to steady his rattling breathing. If they found him like this...if they saw him, it wouldn't be the end, not yet. They'd want to see the light go from his eyes slowly-- 

Gohan shut his eyes. He felt a terrible coward for doing so, but he didn't want to face them. 

A hand on his face. He froze-- 

Something was being pressed to his lips. He dared to open his eyes a crack, and saw a blur of blue, white, yellow, and black. 

Kale. Kale, in her armor. Gohan breathed a ragged, pained, sigh of relief. 

"Open your mouth, Gohan," the voice said, "I didn't flash Korin for you to die because you didn't feel like eating." 

He took the bean, and chewed slowly, swallowing-- 

\--and a few seconds later, he sprang back up. Once again the model of fear and worry, he started asking questions. 

"Trunks, did he get out? I didn't see--" 

"He got out, and came screaming back that they'd killed you," Kale said, nodding, "It's only a mercy we were close and able to talk him out of attacking them while you were out like that." 

"WE?!" He looked around wildly, hoping he wouldn't see any of them. 

"Gohan, stop," she held out a hand in demonstration, being too short to lay it on his shoulder, "Borea didn't come with me. You can relax." 

"I can never relax--" Gohan took a deep breath, "Every day, they kill more people. And every day I have to wonder if it's going to be one of my family, if..." 

He never let himself get like this in front of his wife, or his mother, or Bulma, or Trunks. They were depending on him to be strong. They were depending on him to do what his father had always done--pull a plan out of his ass and save them all. They didn't say it, but they didn't have to, the way they looked at him, the way they encouraged him, the way they told him he was just like his father. 

He had to be just like his father. They couldn't see him as anything but doggedly determined to end the threat, the strong defender of the weak, a mentor to Trunks... 

"Here." 

Kale was trying to hand him something else. 

He looked up, and his nose wrinkled in mild disgust, "You know those are bad for you, right? We need to get going, before they--" 

"Calm down, they're on the other side of the continent at the moment. Take the cigarette, Gohan, one once in a while won't kill you. And besides, the senzu bean heals lung damage, too. Not like I can carry a vape device out this way in my pocket, the pack actually stays in my pocket." 

He hated it, but she was right. He took the cigarette and lit it up with a tiny dot of ki on the end on his finger. He stared--not at her, he never met her eyes during these talks. He always kept his eyes on her armor, or on whatever piece of jewelry she was wearing that day. 

"What was it like, watching planet Vegeta explode, and not being able to do a thing about it?" 

He asked that question of her sometimes; he wasn't sure why. Maybe he was trying to reassure himself that there was life after genocide for those left behind, maybe he just needed to hear a story of survival. Or maybe he just wanted noised during a smoke, some chatter to fill the silence. 

"I didn't feel a thing at first," Kale said, taking a deep inhale from her own cigarette a moment later, "I was on board Cooler's ship when it happened, not near a window but since he was close by, we were able to get a view screen up and see it. Thousands...thousands and hundreds of thousands, just...gone. I didn't feel a thing, all there was was--survival. I was here, they were there, and I had to keep going. It was like...like looking around, and suddenly finding yourself in a void." 

"What did you do?" Gohan took a weak inhale, and set to coughing. 

"Went into a hard routine. Wake, train, sleep if I wasn't doing anything. Wake, train, sleep...if his lordship noticed, he didn't say anything. Wake, train, sleep. Ran afoul of the Armored Squadron a few times, but that just gave me a chance to get beaten near to death and get stronger. That was--that was a feeling, I guess, I knew I needed to get stronger and I was going to if it killed me, and pain was better than numbness." 

No mention of Frieza, and what came after. But that was fine. They and the rest of their weird little family group didn't talk about Frieza. 

"It just might," Gohan said quietly. 

"Then we die, and you get to go to heaven, with all the nice things a good boy like you deserves." 

"Oh, come on..." 

"You make my daughter very happy, Gohan," Kale said, "Son Gohan, loving husband, father...if you don't get in, me and whoever's up there are going to have words." 

She finished her cigarette, dropped it, and stamped the lingering embers out. Gohan, only half-done with his, imitated her. 

"Let's get back. Borea's already threatened to kill you if you aren't dead already and Trunks is losing his shit." 

* * *

Borea read him the riot act for being reckless, but immediately picked him up and kissed him the second she was done. 

He was still not quite used to that. Borea was a head taller than him, a little gangly in some ways, and he wasn't used to anyone save Piccolo being taller than him. 

That thought brought a pang, but he pushed it away. There were other things to think of right now. He was home, and alive. There was a lot to be thankful for. The soft scales of Borea's hand closed around his, and she lead him into the back room. "Pan, papa's home." 

A dark little head looked up, and turned in Gohan's direction. Her fuzzy little tail wriggled with excitement, and she giggled as she tried to crawl on over; determination to do so sparked in those red eyes of hers. 

"I was training most of the day," Borea said, taking Pan into her arms, "Bulma's mother seems to have fallen in love with her. Been ages since she had a young one around, she says." 

"She always did love kids." 

The silence came, and this time it was her that rushed to fill it. 

"If you ever scare me like that again," Borea said quietly, "I'll take your other arm." 

Gohan gave a soft, sad little smile, and moved to take Pan into his own arm. She giggled once again, snuggling up to her papa's gi and sitting in relative silence. 

"Don't worry. I think we're really making progress. We're saiyans, after all. If we were just human, we'd be in an even worse position." 

"Yeah..." Borea was quiet for a moment, and then spoke again, "After what happened today you should be able to clear the planet of any androids just fine." 

She joked, but he felt the weight of it anyway. She wasn't doing it on purpose, he _knew_ that, but still, it was there. 

Until the day he COULD do it, all he could do was pray for a miracle.

Then, from down the hall-- 

Gohan! You're back!"


	4. Treading Water, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kale and Bulma have girl talk over the men in their past. Borea wakes up with Gohan the next morning, and everyone realizes what's approaching. Though they handle it in different ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue heavy.
> 
> OCs in this chapter:
> 
> Borea - illegitimate daughter of Frieza  
> Kale - pureblooded saiyan, mother of Borea. (not the one from Super)

### Treading Water, Pt. 2

"Alright, hand me that one with the green handle," Bulma said. She flipped the mask down, and then started the welding torch up again. After several minutes' work, she stopped, seeming satisfied with the work. 

Kale handed her the green-handled tool. "How's it coming?" 

"Well enough," Bulma replied, "The temporal drive is the most finicky part of the whole thing though, and I've barely started on it. Everything else has to run perfectly, or god knows what'll happen when anyone tries to use it." 

"Anywhen would probably be better than here," Kale forced a laugh as Bulma moved over to the fridge in the corner. "Where's your dad?" 

"Asleep. I convinced him to take a break, that I'd keep working on it. It was nearly impossible..." she shook her head, "He's taken to sleeping in a cot two rooms down. Closer to the lab, he says, and the bed's hard as a rock anyway." 

Silence. 

"I hate that this is necessary," Bulma grumbled quietly. "It took years to get him to stop sleeping there and now he's doing it again..." 

But not quietly enough to not be heard. 

"It's an emergency of the highest order. We'll make it. We always do, then he'll be right back where he was," Kale replied, "I've seen things go a lot worse than this, and people adapted in weird ways, but--they lived, and things got better. Still...hey, you've got beer over there? Toss me one." 

Bulma tossed a beer back. "Vegeta never drank much," she suddenly said, "He disliked the loss of control." 

"A legendary stickler," Kale replied as they both opened their beers, "I don't know how you ever got him to unwind long enough to make Trunks." 

"I could ask you the same question, you know." Bulma sat back in her desk chair. "How does a saiyan make the mighty Frieza unwind? Vegeta always said he hated saiyans. Filthy monkies, he called them." 

It was a conversation they had had often before. And given the turn it always took, it was an easy one. 

"He said that even he was _busy_ ," Kale smirked, make a crude back-and-forth gesture as she pushed her tongue against her cheek, "He never seemed to stop talking!." 

"Oh, the worst kind of man," Bulma groaned, "Vegeta was rough, but he was quiet. Once we got naked, that was it. But oh, those hands..." 

Rough, and muscled, and somehow practiced. She was immediately jealous; though Frieza was certainly good at it, he never treated the deed with that kind of deliberate consideration. Well...almost never. 

Kale still giggled, though, then changed the subject. "Do you still have that brooch he gave you?" 

"Of course. Locked carefully away. I wear a lot of jewelry myself, but--he meant it to belong to Trunks, and now, it...well..." 

"You need something to wear, you just let me know," Kale replied, "If you get tired of your fuck-you money jewels, anyway." 

Bulma, already halfway through a third beer, pointed absently at the necklace Kale was wearing. "Speaking of fuck-you money jewels, how much did that one cost him?" 

It was a strand of large pearls wrapped around Kale's throat; in the middle lay a single large amethyst bound in gold. 

"More than I'm worth," Kale echoed, remembering the words. "I believe it was some part or the other of a conquered planet's royal jewels. He could be impulsive, but then--terribly practical, when it came to matters of jewelry. Wasteful nonsense, he called it, what I got I got because he didn't want his pet to look plain compared to his father's." 

"I bet you don't miss that attitude." 

"He simply didn't see the point of it. Unless his brother's woman, or his father's were nearby. Then, I had better look every inch the pampered pet." 

Bulma laughed. "Vain little monster, then?" 

"You don't know the half of it. I saw you doing it with Vegeta, y'know. Stroke the old ego, and he was practically putty in your hands." 

"It was hard work, don't discount the effort it takes." Bulma gestured with the can, and gave a shrug. "The hell am I saying, you probably had to put in the same kind of work with Frieza. The glare Vegeta would give when he said he wasn't in the mood--" 

"--the look on his face when you turned to go, subtly walking in just that perfect way--" 

"--how he was on you, before you even made it out of the room!" 

They both got a laugh at that. 

"They were more similar than they probably would've admitted. Did Vegeta like it when you called him Prince?" 

"God, did he. And Frieza?" 

"What do you think?" Kale asked, "He liked it when you knew your place, liked it when he saw you all ready for him in the way he preferred you. It made him...satisfied." 

The conversation took a raunchier turn at that, and for several minutes they debated size and enthusiasm and how hard one thing or another bounced or rattled when their respective men had been at work. After a fifth beer, Kale found herself yawning. "I think I'll turn in, unless you need help getting to bed yourself." 

"A bit longer," Bulma said, "I just want to finish welding this little bit of shielding in place, and I need someone here and ready with the fire extinguisher, just in case." 

"You've had six beers, no way in hell are you welding anything else tonight. Go to bed, Bulma." 

"Pfff...three beers, that's nothing." 

"Six. Now go to BED, Bulma." 

She did in the end need help getting there, and dirty jokes followed in their wake as they both went down the hall. It was not the first time they stumbled through the halls of Capsule Corp. in that manner, nor would it be the last. 

And though there was much stumbling and complaining, it was still the closest thing to a girls' night out either of them had had in ages. 

* * *

Gohan woke up to the feeling of Pan's sticky little hands on his face. 

He'd fallen asleep with her in his arm, and with Borea on the other side of the bed. And now, she was laying there, staring back at him with that sad little smile and a little flush on the peachy scales of her face. 

"I'm still here, and no, you're not dreaming," he said, lifting Pan up into the air. He made airplane noises, and she giggled and wiggled her arms. "You're flying!" 

_She could have lost you. They both could have_. The thought came unbidden, as it had so many times before. 

_I'm trying not to think about that_ was all he could think at that moment. He couldn't show any face but a brave one. He had to be strong--for her. For both of them. 

All three of them. 

"I wear orange, you can't lose me." He tried to joke, but his grin faltered. 

Borea sat up, like she was about to say something--and then just stopped, and shook her head. "Now isn't the time for this conversation," she said quietly, before taking Pan. 

Silence. 

"I don't know how else to handle this," he said suddenly, "I don't know--dad always--" 

"You're not your father," Borea said quickly, "Listen, we'll get through this. I can get mom to get more of those senzu beans, and I can just take the next three months to beat the shit out of you and her since you get stronger every time you almost die. If there's one thing I learned from my father it was how to keep a man alive far beyond the point of reason." 

That might work, but... 

There was always a but. 

Almost dying was the key there. He couldn't risk overestimating himself or underestimating her strength and taking himself out of the game entirely. That would leave them a man down, and they couldn't afford that. Borea couldn't even go Super Saiyan, and Trunks--Trunks was still too young. 

Then there was Pan, and his mother... 

He sighed, and lay back again. 

"Training is the safer way to go," he said, "For all involved. The gains with your plan are clear, sure, but the _risk_!" 

"There is no risk as long as your esophagus isn't harmed." 

"Still--" 

A pause. Gohan's eyes widened, and for a moment or two Borea couldn't figure out why. But then it hit her, too. 

She looked up at the ceiling. 

"No..." 

"That's not the androids," Gohan said, his voice suddenly Piccolo-serious. He sat bolt upright, and after a pause started rushing to pull his gi on. "Stay here." 

"The hell I am!" she snapped, shushing Pan when she started fussing. 

"This is the last thing we need right now...the _last_ thing..." 

Borea rushed out of the room, finding Bulma's mother in short order. She gave a quick explanation--sudden emergency, please and thank you for watching the baby--and then headed out after Gohan, who'd already left. 

* * *

"Fuck...fuck, where is it?" Kale had felt it, the same as her daughter and Gohan had, and was currently digging through the box in the back of her closet. Blue and purple underarmor suit sets flew over her shoulder one by one. "Not that one, it looks like a damn bathing suit, and that one..." 

That energy, that could only mean one thing. That could only mean he'd come back. 

And _that_ meant it was time to pull out every trick in the book, every advantage she could muster, for all their sakes. 

The suit put together and put on, she then turned to one of her jewelry boxes, rifling through it more delicately than she had the underarmor suits. That string of pearls, from last night. But the brooch--where was the brooch? 

She finally found it, towards the back. It had the shape of a pitcher-looking flower, pearl and emerald. 

She started to press it onto her armor--then stopped. 

Not yet. First judge his intent, then there would be time to gauge whether this was a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flower is a calla lily, well known for its poisonous side-effects


	5. Bend The Knee, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frieza arrives.

### Bend The Knee, Pt. 1

767,390. 

That was all that was left. 767,390 Arcosians left of what had once been a vast empire. The final numbers were delivered to Frieza just before he exited the ship, and it was this number he kept in mind as the door opened. 

So few...so few of them remained. A common story among the survivors was those on Arcos sacrificing themselves to give their relatives or friends more time to get free. Some had taken ki blasts or laser shots from enemy soldiers and died either shortly after boarding or waiting for an available healing pod. There were stories of hope, of course, but far outweighed by the stories of suffering and death. There were children with no adults in their lives, only siblings, adults who had lost everyone dear to them... 

Suffering, fire, death, death, even more death. 

And he was coming to a planet that had seen more of the same. The true number was not known, but from what the scans and checks of their internet and radio signals could gather, they had lost at least a third of the world's population. 

More fell every day, too. The androids, starvation, lack of clean water. Lack of access to medical facilities. 

King Furry suggested, if he were able to defeat the androids, that he land his ships in the area known as Yunzabit Heights. It was a large and unpopulated mountainous island, and while there was little in the way of plant life or game there was plenty of fresh water and the oceans surrounding it would no doubt be well able to yield large catches of fish. When Frieza explained his food replicators meant he had no need to worry about food--the man seemed shocked. Clearly they had none of those here. Another advantage. 

It was going to be so _easy_...once they got past the issue of the androids. 

"Prepare the landing party," he said, looking back at Sorbet. 

* * *

"Bulma, this is a bad idea. We can't all come out." 

Yet despite his protests, they were all heading to the landing location in one of her ships. Between her legs she clenched a small plastic terrarium, while trying to keep her eyes ahead. 

"I'd rather be out here than alone back there. And besides--" Bulma took a deep breath as she looked up, "I think I've got something to aid our cause." 

"That's my job," Kale called from the back. She was sitting alone, arms crossed, staring out the window. In the distance, they could all see his ship, that malignant dot coming down. "Look, it's simple. Surrender immediately, and he'll--" 

"He'll do what?" Borea asked, "Be merciful? That's not in him." 

"Can we not argue?" Bulma snapped from the front and looked back ahead. "Gohan, you're being awfully quiet. You getting cold feet?" 

"No," Gohan shook his head. "It's--it's just that I sense a lot of other power levels. Not just on the ship, more...higher up, probably in orbit. They're nothing like his or his men. They're more like...any random guy you'd see on the street. And there's so may of them..." 

"I didn't notice anything until now," Borea said, "But now you mention it, I'm actually looking for it...and yeah, I can sense it too." 

"Maybe he's just planning to gut the planet of resources or something," Kale replied, "He is a planetary trader, and there's a lot still to get from this hunk of rock." 

"It's not a hunk of rock," Trunks finally spoke up. "Gohan, do we have a plan?" 

"We fight. That's our plan." Gohan clenched his fist, and stared straight ahead, out the window. "And Kami help him when I get my hand on him." 

* * *

By the time they got there, the soldiers were already out of the ship and lined up, leaving only just room enough for Frieza's pod-chair to go down. He saw them get out, all of them anxious, ready to fight. He moved closer still, away from the ranks that the men had formed. 

The one in orange was at the front. Not Goku, of course, but he certainly looked like him. Perhaps his son--yes, that boy from Namek. Missing an arm, how utterly grotesque. How did he expect to fight with one arm? He felt nearly insulted--the best fighters were clearly missing if a one-armed monkey was among the best who could see his arrival. 

The next he looked at was the taller girl--it had to be Borea. She had grown like a weed...more of his father in her than him. He sneered inwardly at the thought-- _he_ had always loved spending time with her, going whenever Frieza himself chose to. Her power level was relatively high, but nothing to Goku's brat. 

And that was it. His scouter picked up two tiny signatures in the ship behind the group, but nothing more. 

This was it. This was the glorious welcome party of fighters that he was met with. Three monkeys and his half-breed child. 

What had happened? The bald one was not even here, and he was braver than he had any right to be. The Namekian was not here. Those who had been here the last time he'd come were not here. They were all gone. 

All thanks to those androids. 

How weak had they all become, to lose to a pair of artificial beings? Or perhaps it was simply out of their league. Vegeta should not have gone down so easily, at least. But then he thought back to planet Namek, and how broken the man had been then. No, Vegeta breaking was expected. Normal. 

"What do you want?" Gohan spoke first, stepping forward with his arm up in a fighting stance. 

"I am not here to kill you, as satisfying as that might be," Frieza said. His chair moved closer, and closer, until he was right in front of them. "I have more important concerns than eliminating a one-armed monkey." 

"And what might that be?" Borea spoke next, stepping up beside Gohan. "Are you here to strip the planet of resources and sell it off?" 

"No." His tone was icy, but then eased off. "I am here because my people need a new home." 

Gohan didn't seem to believe him, and kept his stance. A fair thought. His reputation did precede him, but how stupid, to fight when you had no chance of winning. A consequence of being Goku's son, he supposed. 

"What do you know, boy, of rebels? Do you know what they do when their emperor is away? They grow bold. My armies were largely obliterated, and fast recruitment can only do so much. My home planet has been destroyed...much like yours has." 

He looked at Borea first, then Gohan--they both met his eyes. Brash, brave. Kale next; she lowered her gaze and gave a little half bow. Cowardly, capitulating. 

Then the child, the one with purple hair. 

"I am here to claim this planet in the name of Arcos." 

"We will not--!" Gohan burst out, but was quickly cut off. 

"Your king is willing to give me dominion over this planet and all the rest in your system, so long as I give him one thing in return. And I'm certain..." he smirked at Gohan, then looked to the empty sleeve, "...you would agree it is a fair trade." 

"You're not a ruler, you're a tyrant. We have no assurances--" 

"You have none now. You could die tomorrow, if either of those machines comes after you." Frieza waved dismissively, but then pointed, directly at Gohan. "Give me what I want, and I will eliminate the androids for you." 

Gohan was battling it in his head, he could see that. He stood in front of the group, their protector, much as his father had been. Beaten down, perhaps. 

That lasted about three seconds. 

"No. We can't trust you, you've given us no reason to do so," Gohan replied. "I can sense the people in orbit, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you just walk right in with no effort." 

"You seem to forget," Frieza chuckled, "That I have done just that already." 

A show of power, that was his first urge. But then he batted it down. That would frighten them, certainly, but it wouldn't gain their temporary trust. It was that tiny grain he needed, to make this a smooth transition. 

"Perhaps I could give you a show of good faith," he said suddenly. "There is a certain gift I can give you, if you want it." 

"What _gift_?" Gohan practically snarled the words. 

"There are certain advancements that have been made in the healing pods of the PTO," Frieza said, trying to keep his tone amiable. "Regenerative abilities have increased considerably. Enough to restore me to full form, despite your father cutting me in half with one of those disk attacks before I died. Enough to..." 

Careful watch on the eyes, now. 

"...regrow your missing arm, even." 

Gohan's eyes widened. He was silent, for what felt like an age. 

The only sound was the wind. 

"I have to be sure you won't kill anyone, and I can't be sure of that," he finally said. "Surely you understand." 

So he wasn't completely like his fool of a father. It was admirable...and annoying, at the same time. 

After a short pause of consideration, Frieza looked to Sorbet. "How long did it take you to regenerate my body?" 

"Several--days, my lord, but you were in quite a few pieces." Sorbet did not understand Frieza's need to include this small group in his...kindness...but he didn't question it, at least. Good. He had served long enough to know better. 

"Retrieve an estimate for how long it would take to regrow the arm of a fully grown saiyan. This one is a half-breed, but it should not be too far off the mark." 

"Of course, my lord, right away." 

Sorbet bowed, and then walked a short distance to conduct the call over his scouter. 

Frieza looked back to the group, and inwardly grumbling, prepared the best speech he could. "My people," he said, "Look to me to defend them from dangers of all sorts. You have no reason to trust me, truthfully. But you surely have...compassion...for those who need it. Perhaps you could think of what you are denying to _refugees_ , if that makes it any easier." 

That tugged at the bleeding heart's string, for sure. He saw Gohan battling it out internally; he saw the others, waiting to see what the boy decided. 

"Why do you care?" 

That was the first response made. 

"Why do you care about these people?" 

"I am their ruler, boy," Frieza replied, his tone absolutely arctic, "It is my business to see to their safety." 

"So...you don't want to blow us up." Bulma's voice carried out suddenly, and she stepped forward with the plastic terrarium in her hands. 

"No," Frieza replied, "The planet is too valuable for that." 

His eyes drifted downward...not to her breasts (disgusting, that these mammals had them!) but to the terrarium. Inside was some sort of amphibian...with strange spots, and antenna. 

"And who are you?" 

"Vegeta's--wife. Widow," she said. Her voice shook only a little. "Trunks is my son." 

The purple haired boy was Vegeta's son, of course. The monkey had left his seed behind, because what else would he do? 

The tenseness of the group grew no less--Gohan tried to step forward, to pull the woman back, but she pulled away from his touch. 

"You're going to do what you want regardless of if we believe you or not," Bulma said, "And we can't stop you. But--if you're really here to help your people...I have something that can help you." 

"Oh?" That was an amusing thought. What could this woman possibly have to offer, that was of any value? "What might that be?" 

"I was on Namek," she said, holding up the little terrarium, "Do you recall Captain Ginyu?" 

He could never forget that man. Ever. 

"Naturally." 

"When Goku and Vegeta fought him," she spoke quickly, "He tried to take Vegeta's body, and Goku happened to notice a frog hopping along, and tossed him." 

"Bulma, what are you--don't give him that!" Gohan spoke up again. 

The woman said something he couldn't catch then. And he looked at that stupid little spotted frog, and found himself wondering. 

"No..." 

Ginyu. That frog was Ginyu? No, it couldn't be... 

"I want proof," he said, "Release the frog. Tagoma!" 

He barked the order, and Tagoma came forward. "Yes, sir." 

"Release it and set it on the ground." 

Bulma handed the container over, and Tagoma did as he was told. 

Frieza watched the frog the entire time, and the second Tagoma was clear, raised a hand, with a glittering death beam charging at the end of one fingertip. 

The frog responded by standing up, crossing a leg over its chest, and sticking another arm in the air. 

"Clever," Frieza said, "But not clever enough." 

The frog waved its arms frantically, and then looked at Tagoma, waving again. Then it turned its attention to the dirt, and began to trace lines in some alien language. 

Tagoma squinted. 

"Does that say 'change now'?"


End file.
